


Home Is Where the Heart Is

by Winnywriter



Series: Great Falls 'Verse [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Domestic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-29
Updated: 2013-03-29
Packaged: 2017-12-06 21:01:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/740113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Winnywriter/pseuds/Winnywriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Balthazar and Castiel move into their new home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home Is Where the Heart Is

**Author's Note:**

> This is the beginning of my domestic Calthazar verse, which I started partly thanks to [Kenzie](http://archiveofourown.org/users/musicofthespheres/pseuds/flyawaycastiel), and our RP. 
> 
> This work - and probably many others following it in this verse - was inspired by a prompt over at [imagineyourotp](imagineyourotp.tumblr.com): "Imagine your OTP have just moved into together.  While tidying the house, Person A happens across a particularly stunning photograph of Person B (perhaps a swimsuit picture), taken several years ago, before they met.  Person A is immediately distracted from the tidying - and, looking a little flushed, tucks the photo into their pocket and hurries off to give Person B a ‘spontaneous’ kiss."

“Alright, I'll admit it,” Balthazar said, “I think I might be just the slightest bit fond of this place.” He leaned against the door frame, crossed his arms and smirked as he surveyed their new home. The pink hue of sunset was flooding in through the windows, making it feel warm and inviting despite the fact that the house was still new and somewhat unfamiliar, and just the slightest bit chilly in the cold grasp of a Montana March.

****

Castiel peeked over the top of the two boxes he was lugging into the living room from the kitchen and quirked an eyebrow at him. “You love it,” he said knowingly, and he set the boxes down on the sofa. “Grab me the box cutter from the kitchen, would you?”

****

“Love is a strong word,” Balthazar mused as he went to the kitchen and grabbed the box cutter. “One I only reserve for the most precious of life's treasures.”

****

Castiel smiled at him as he took the plastic-armored blade and sliced into the tape holding the boxes shut. “Like?”

****

“Oh, I don't know...a well-cooked _crème brûlée?_ A good '75 Dom?” Castiel blinked at him, nearly expressionless save for the slight arch in his eyebrows. A smile remained hidden just beneath the surface, a secret to anyone who didn't know where to look for it. Luckily, after seven years, Balthazar did, and he knew all he had to do was wait for the subtle tug on the corners of Castiel's mouth to finally win out over his deadpan stare.

****

It only took about four seconds for it to do so.

****

“Suppose I can't compete with that, hm?”

****

“Oh, Cassie,” Balthazar chastised lightheartedly; he pressed his palms to either side of Castiel's jaw and leaned forward to kiss him on the crown of his head. “Quite the opposite, you know.” Castiel let out the tiniest of chuckles and went back to rummaging through the box. Inside were numerous pictures in frames, a few old photo albums and one or two high school yearbooks that neither of them had looked through in years. He gingerly took out the picture frames and placed them on the coffee table, Balthazar eying them as he did.

****

“Never understood why you're so very fond of taking pictures,” he mused.

****

Castiel didn't look up as he replied, “I like to remember things.”

****

“Can't remember the old fashioned way?”

****

“I don't want to run the risk of forgetting.”

****

Balthazar picked up one of the photographs and studied it intently; it was one that he'd always loved, but hadn't taken much time to look at closely for several years. In the picture, the two of them were standing with their arms around each other outside the door of apartment number 413C, which had been their mutual home for three good years before they'd decided to dive into the world real estate and mortgages.

****

If he remembered correctly, it had been their landlord who had taken the picture, and he hadn't been particularly excited about being roped into doing so. For some reason, that memory made Balthazar laugh to himself.

****

He wandered over to the fireplace and put the frame on the mantel, and when he looked back over at the sofa, Castiel was staring at it intently. “Just putting it there for the moment,” Balthazar assured him, knowing how picky Cas could be about everything being in its proper place. “We can give it a more permanent home later.”

****

“No, I think I like it there,” Castiel mused, and Balthazar felt rather pleased with himself. He preened by the fireplace.

****

Castiel set the albums and yearbooks on the sofa beside him before his brow furrowed, and he pressed his palm to his stomach. “I'm starving,” he said. “The kitchen stuff still isn't unpacked...Why don't you order us a pizza or something? We can eat off of paper plates.”

****

“Way ahead of you, Cassie,” Balthazar said, pulling his cell phone out of his pocket. With a few flicks of his finger over the touch screen, he found the number for the nearest pizza place, and he dialed and held the phone to his ear before wandering toward the kitchen.

****

Castiel watched him go, vaguely admiring the sway of his hips as he sauntered away. The yearbook was heavy in his lap, and he looked down at it, curiosity spiking at the edge of his consciousness. It was Balthazar's, from high school, and, barely even realizing he was doing it, he pulled back the cover. The spine creaked, stiff with age and neglect, but the pages were still glossy under his fingers, and he leafed through them with a small smile on his face.

****

He paused when he came to a picture of Balthazar, posing with his high school swim team. He couldn't recognize more than a few words on the page – they were all in French – but it made no difference to him that he didn't know their record for that year or the history of the school team; he was far too focused on Balthazar, standing off to the far left. His body was lithe and strong, his face youthful. The smallest hint of a smirk played at his lips, and it was just enough that Castiel could recognize his Balthazar even in this young visage on the page, despite the fact that this was a Balthazar who didn't know him, who had never met him in his life. This was Balthazar in a life before this one, and Castiel almost felt he was staring into some foreign alternate dimension. It was difficult to wrap his mind around the idea that there had been a time when he hadn't even known that this man he now loved so much even existed. There had been a time when both of them had gone about their daily business – competing at swim meets and writing for school newspapers and studying for exams – without even realizing that there was another person out in the world who would one day love them, and whom they would love so deeply in return.

****

Even as that thought tripped through his mind, his Balthazar stepped into the room again, phone pressed against his chest. “Cassie, do you want mushrooms or no?”

****

Castiel didn't answer; he closed the yearbook, dropped it on couch, strode across the room and grabbed Balthazar by the lapels to drag him in for a hungry, very involved kiss. Balthazar, much to Castiel's satisfaction, nearly dropped his phone, sucking in a sudden surprised breath before relaxing, wrapping his arms around Castiel's shoulders and pulling him closer. Castiel's tongue skimmed across his bottom lip just as the pizza guy on the phone voiced his confusion at the line having suddenly going dead.

****

Balthazar pulled away with a slight, “Wow...” and he blinked a few times as if to get his bearings before smiling down at Castiel, lips gloriously kiss-red. “Anything in particular that brought that on? Because I'd very much like to do it again as soon as possible.”

****

Just for being you, Castiel wanted to tell him, but the pizza man was growing restless on the other line, and Castiel really was hungry, so he patted Balthazar on the chest, gave him one last peck on the lips, and said instead, “Mushrooms yes. Go on and order before they hang up on you. I'm going to keep unpacking.” He turned and smiled widely as he went back to the sofa. Balthazar stumbled over his words a bit before managing to place the order and ending the call.

****

Castiel moved the books and albums to the floor beside the sofa, beside another few boxes that were still waiting to be unpacked. The only semblance of warning he got was Balthazar's footsteps padding up to the couch before he was pinned down against the cushions, Balthazar's stubborn lips pressing against his.

****

“I do love this house,” Castiel said. Balthazar grinned at him, his face stained orange-pink by the setting sun. He pressed forward again, mumbling against Balthazar's mouth, “Love our house...”

****

“And I love that you love it,” Balthazar said, pulling back just barely before kissing him on the tip of his nose. “ _Je t'aime_ , Castiel.”

****

That phrase, he recognized, and Castiel smiled, dragging his thumb across Balthazar's cheekbone, breathing, “ _Je t'aime aussi_ ,” onto his lips, chasing the words with a kiss.

 


End file.
